Dales sheep

click photo to enlarge
The last major outbreak of foot and mouth disease to hit the sheep population of the Yorkshire Dales occurred in 2001. It led to the cull of the vast majority of the sheep in this upland area, most of which were of the Swaledale breed. Farmers had to bring in other breeds from unaffected parts of the country, sometimes varieties that were not as well suited to the rugged terrain as the Swaledales.

I grew up in Settle in the Dales and have visited the area regularly since work took me to live elsewhere in the country. On my returns after the disease was eradicated I found that I was unable to identify most of the breeds of sheep that took the place of the Swaledales, and I wondered if the native breed would ever return in the numbers that I remembered. I'm glad to say that it seems the flocks are being re-established, that many farmers are breeding them and re-introducing them into the limestone dales and high moorland. Some of the varieties that I don't recognise are still very evident, but I have a clear impression that as a proportion of the total Dales flocks they are declining.

Today's photographs show Swaledales on the hills around Attermire and a breed I don't know on a gated valley pasture very close to Upper Settle. The latter photograph was taken early in a walk that also included the second, and the height of the sun makes all the difference between the two shots.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 31mm (62mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Attermire

click photo to enlarge
Many keen walkers know that some of the best under-foot conditions for their pastime is limestone upland. The relatively free draining surface, that is often farmed with sheep, frequently has a short, mud-free turf, and offers conditions that contrast greatly with the wetter conditions found on less permeable rocks such as millstone grit and granite.

That is not to say that water isn't found on limestone: it is, particularly in areas where it has been glaciated and till was spread and dumped in the distant past. And even where these conditions don't prevail heavy and persistent rainfall can produce temporary streams and pools. But, all that not withstanding, water and wet conditions are much less frequent on limestone and it makes good walking country.

Today's photograph shows three prominent corallian outcrops of limestone. On the right is Attermire Scar, in the centre Warrendale Knotts, and on the left (in the shadow of cloud), an unnamed (or unknown to me) outcrop. They exhibit the typical cliffs, caves and scree of  this type of landscape. What is less common is the large, fairly flat area of grass and marsh in the centre of the landscape. This is called Attermire and is the mire (marsh) after which the area is named. It is an area of little use for livestock but a great place for birds, plants and insects. I have spent more than a few happy hours sitting on Warrendale Knotts with binoculars, scanning the area for wildlife, listening to the curlew's warbling whistle, the lapwing's plaintive cry and the raven's harsh croak.

On our most recent visit the weather was what I consider to be perfect for photographing this kind of landscape - cloud with sun periodically breaking through - conditions that give saturated colours, contrast and interesting skies.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Olympus E-M10
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 18mm (36mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/1000 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3
Image Stabilisation: On

Politicians and limestone scenery

click photo to enlarge
It increasingly seems to me that anyone who puts themselves forward to be a politician, through that very act, demonstrates their unsuitability for the job. It could be the ageing process taking its toll on me or perhaps it's the filter of the press distorting my perception of politics, but I get the distinct impression that few people today go into politics because they are serious people who have deeply held convictions and because they want to change the world for the better, improving the lives of all. And those that do rarely make it to the important posts. All too often going into politics appears to be an entirely self-serving act where egotism and personal aggrandisement come before principle.

Two of the most prominent politicians in Britain today are the prime minister, David Cameron, and the mayor of London, Boris Johnson, neither of whom are appropriate for the job that they hold, and both of whom daily broadcast that fact through their utterances. At the recent Conservative Party conference Johnson is quoted as saying that if he can run London he can run Britain. The implication is that he is an effective mayor of London who has the skills to run the country. Neither is true, as anyone who has watched Johnson's actions and, more importantly, lack of action in recent years will realise. That he is a clever publicist capable of making himself liked and elected through careful management of his public persona is undoubtedly true. However, he appears to have few of the essential qualities of an effective politician. Unfortunately, as David Cameron has demonstrated, today these are not necessary to secure the top job.

At the same conference that Johnson made his remarkable assertion David Cameron trotted out a line that is deeply revealing of the public relations based muddle-headedness at the heart of many of his speeches, statements that have a baleful influence on government policy or, more often, are simply forgotten once they are deemed to have completed their "sound-bite" purpose. He said, "I'm not here to defend privilege, I'm here to spread it." This half-baked line is more revealing than he thought. Through it he wanted us to ignore his privileged upbringing (and perhaps the fact that he never needed to strive) and suggest that the opportunities he had in life can and should be made widely available. Despite being the recipient of what some consider the best education that money can buy he doesn't seem to have realised that, by definition, privilege ceases to exist if it extends widely. As an aim it is absurd because it is impossible. However, the meaning I took from it was that he is determined, at a time when the majority of society is having to tighten its collective belt, to spread the largesse that he enjoys to "his" social group. And, through the government's policies this is precisely what he is doing.

I sometimes think that my views about our present leadership are too coloured by my own political beliefs. However, I was encouraged to think otherwise today when I read Max Hastings' occasional column in The Guardian. I normally have few views that coincide with his, but as someone who knows Boris Johnson well (having been his editor) it was revealing to hear him say: "He is not a man to believe in, to trust or respect, save as a superlative exhibitionist. He is bereft of judgment, loyalty and discretion. Only in the star-crazed, frivolous Britain of the 21st century could such a man have risen so high, and he is utterly unfit to go higher still." Perhaps he'll now give us his views on David Cameron.

All of which has nothing much to do with this photograph of the carboniferous limestone landscape of Warrendale Knotts and Attermire Scar above Settle in North Yorkshire. The pictured cliffs, caves, boulders and scree were my childhood playground. When I crave release from the cares and woes of the world a walk through these hills accompanied by only my wife and the cry of the jackdaw and curlew soon puts me right.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 32mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Thinking about walking

click photo to enlarge
When I was a youngster the act of donning boots, picking up a rucksack, and walking on the hills, or in the countryside in general, was called "hiking." These days it appears to be called "walking", which is a much less specific word, though sometimes it's also known as "trekking", a grander term conjuring up images of months long journeys in distant lands. During the intervening years walking was often called "rambling", perhaps after the organisation that sought (and still seeks) to promote the pastime in Britain, The Rambler's Association (now, apparently, known as Ramblers.)

Whatever we choose to call walking in the country it's something I've done for pleasure all my life. In most instances I've done it in company with my wife, or as a family when our children were younger and still lived with us. Before I was married I often chose to walk alone. Only on one occasion have I walked in a group with the Ramblers, though at other times I've walked with friends. Today when my wife and I go walking (we never go separately) we usually see walkers who are alone, or we see couples. I've often wondered about this. Do lone walkers choose to walk by themselves, or have they a partner left at home who doesn't care for this activity? And do couples walk together because they both enjoy it, or is there often a reluctant walker being dragged along by an enthusiast? My feeling is that walking alone or with someone you know very well are the best ways to enjoy this activity. In both cases you can get physical exercise whilst looking at the sights, as well as enjoying getting lost in your own thoughts about what you see and experience. Periods of silence are much easier with someone you know well: when you walk in larger groups the problem for me is that chat too often intrudes on the communing with nature - though I know that some find conversation part of the point of going walking.

Recently, as we were passing through the area known as Attermire, near Settle in North Yorkshire, we came upon a lone walker travelling in the opposite direction. We exchanged greetings, then, a couple of minutes after he'd gone by, I turned to see him paused at the top of a steep slope surveying the view, and I took this photograph of him, a small figure in a big space. This is one of those images that completely misrepresents the landscape because out of view to the left are drystone walls, scree and cliffs that rise up high above the path, to the right are the rugged limestone tops of Warrendale Knotts, and beyond the walker the track and the land falls away to a level area of marsh - an unusual occurence in an area of limestone upland - that is surrounded on two sides by more cliffs, scree and caves.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 150mm (300mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1600
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -1.0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Upland sheep

click photo to enlarge
The Fens of Lincolnshire used to be a land of sheep, but no longer. Today vegetables are much more profitable. However, sheep are still to be found in small numbers, and in larger numbers when they are brought in from more distant pastures to eat the left-overs when fields of cauliflowers and other brassicas have been harvested. Recently as I've travelled around, the breeds I've seen include Lincoln Longwool, Blue-faced Leicester, Blackface, and what appear to be Hebridean (though they may be black Soay sheep). These are in small resident herds, and are nothing like the sheep I've been used to for much of my life.

When I lived in the Yorkshire Dales the Swaledale (pronounced "Swaddle" locally) was ubiquitous. However, I also saw Dalesbred, Lonks, Rough Fell, Masham, and various other breeds. If I went to the Lake District it was the Herdwicks that I noticed roaming the fell sides. However, the foot and mouth disease outbreak of 2001 wiped out many herds in the North of England, and today some farmers are trying different breeds. As a child I was used to seeing Swaledale sheep in the Craven hills around Settle in North Yorkshire. But, in recent years, though this breed is still common, I've come across quite a lot of what appear to be North of England Mules. This breed is a cross between the Blue-faced Leicester and either the Swaledale or the Northumberland-type Blackface.

As I strode over the limestone hills near Attermire a while ago it was this breed that I came upon. The Swaledales coped with the fescues and nardus grasses, the high rainfall and bleak winters of the Pennines, and presumably there's enough of their hardiness in this cross-bred variety to do so too. A shaft of sunlight illuminated this group on the hillside, so I split the frame in half diagonally with the top of the slope, and selected a group that straggled along this line.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 118mm (236mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/320
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On